


got a secret, digging a dent

by strikereurekapitcrew



Series: repetition [7]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Other, revenge fic (sorta)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 13:32:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17488952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strikereurekapitcrew/pseuds/strikereurekapitcrew
Summary: Johann and Avi send news. Taako and Merle swore an oath. Julia has a secret that Fisher didn't broadcast.





	got a secret, digging a dent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hops](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hops/gifts).



> will i ever actually finish a fic? will i start writing this series in any kind of chronological order? lmao. (for hops bc i inflicted julia and taako on her, so this is a lot of incoming fanservice)

Sat on the stones in a side garden of the newly rebuilt Temple of Istus, Julia works.

She’s been working since the experiment in the mines…. Near the mines… Since they stuck a clusterbomb to an immovable rod to test a theory, exposed a new diamond vein, and finished up the last of the experiments that they needed to test whether or not the sheer fit of dumb inspiration Taako had given her would actually work.

There’s just two, possibly three phases left to the plan, and her work will be done, the dwelf finally able to rest. The work is absolutely to cope with Lucretia’s continued silence and distance. The work is absolutely an unhealthy coping mechanism, but she’s so deep in it -the whole reconstruction and revival of the Roost- that she’s simply not comfortable letting go so easily. If it wouldn’t make her cry, Julia would laugh at how like her wife she has become in their estrangement. There is, however, still work to be done. There are still people to track down, still mages and craftsmen to ask for help. There is still too much time to think about the Stone of Farspeech around her throat, and how she has had the strength to not call Lucretia in almost a month, remind herself that she can do this without needing to lean on the strength of someone who has made it clear that they’re not speaking.

There’s still so much work to be done.

It’s why she chose to stay and work at the temple. The aura of the place is… soft. Inspiring. It reminds her to breathe, to roll her shoulder, rub at the place her harness is beginning to chafe. Stretch, stand and pace, then sit again and settle back into work. Magnus is frequently in and out of her periphery; if he’s not down in the town, he’s in the Inner Sanctum. Learning to spin, learning to knit, learning to dye. He’s learning.

He’s happy, using his hands again.

He’s her happiness, and despite the depths of pain she’s carrying, that is more than enough. A voice not unlike the Thrall asks her in a venomous sneer if that will really be enough.

Thankfully, the footsteps approaching her place in the garden free her of having to examine that voice and those words too deeply.

Merle and Taako look like they’ve broken an important part of the Starblaster as they approach, and that is… worrying after a hundred and some years of working with these chucklefucks.

“Oh, good. She’s already sitting down,” Merle chirps in that cheerful tone that means, invariably, that bad news will follow. “That’s… good…?”

Taako toys with his amulet, an action that draws Julia’s eyes. Uncharacteristically nervous. His eyes dart down to the dwarf, who inclines his head toward her. It strikes her, however briefly, how familiar this farcical dance is, the both of them delivering news to her but neither wanting to be the bearer of it.

“What is it?” she prompts. Her hands, flesh and arcane metal, cap her fountain pen and close her journal without the aid of her eyes. They need her whole focus, and she can feel it. There have only been a few times that they’ve looked at her this way, and it kicks all of her fight-or-flight instincts into high gear with an uncomfortable quickness. The first time she remembers was a rare time Lucretia died in a cycle, Magnus falling in effort to bring her back. Taako and Merle approaching her with these expressions has been an ill omen ever since, even when she couldn’t remember it.

“Kravitz came to visit on his lunch break,” Taako starts, elegant fingers back to twisting an equally elegant gold chain.

“Reapers take lunch breaks?” she asks, in a very Magnus-like fashion, before she can stop the words.

“He eats _food_ , it’s rude to interrupt, Julia,” the high elf scoffs in faux offense.

“What Taako means to say is that we asked Krav for…” Merle hums, head bobbing slightly as he searches for the right words. “... a favor?”

“After everything. But,” Taako lets out a breath. “After Wonderland. We _promised_.”

Julia, in an instant, feels her blood run cold, something like the wind rushing in her ears.

“You didn’t-”  
“What, hand our man’s revenge mission over to your boyfriend?” Taako’s feline grin returns, just like that. “Course not. But we asked the Boner Squad to keep a lookout in the Astral Plane.”

“Do you really-” she starts to scold, but the look on Merle’s face stops her from getting anywhere beyond that.

“They didn’t find him,” the cleric says.

“Cha’bois Johavi did,” the wizard finishes.

She feels…

Panicked. Panicked is a good word for it.

Her lungs and hands burn, wisps of short blonde curls falling over her freckled face before she pushes them back, drawing in a breath like she’s _drowning._ For a moment, it’s like all she can hear are the screams, wails of the long dead and those forced to live beyond the tragedy. For a moment, the pounding of her heart is the repetitive rumble of the modified flash bombs, rolling again and again in her ears. Then it’s the rush of running. Of panting. Of rescue, of rescuing _her people._

In the eternity it lasts, it’s done in a second.

“Where?” she asks low, and feels as if she’s only just stepped back into her body.

“There’s a small convent, nuns dedicated to Mishakal-” Merle manages. His tone says that he wants to help, but he hasn’t seen her panic like this. Not in almost fifteen years.

Julia laughs, the sound edged with hysteria. “It’s always the healers. It’s never the Cult of Sargonnas, or nuns of Loviatar, or Beshaba…”

Of _course_ , some of the most blessed and patient of Toril are the ones to have given him shelter. Of _course_ , it’s never the death cult of a murder god, because that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? The wind chimes lining the small garden sound like Lady Istus’ musical laughter, and that makes Julia feel worse.

“I suppose you’ll want to come with us, then?” the older dwarf asks hesitantly.

She wants to say no. She also doesn’t want them to know.

 Julia hasn’t told _anyone_ about Kalen, or about the events that the Chalice showed her. They weren’t redacted, and as such, when the Voidfish broadcast them back, they were not part of the Story.

So nobody knows beyond the cleric and artificer who saved her twice over, June via the Chalice, and Lady Istus. Them, and the shattered remnants of the man that Kalen used to be, trapped somewhere in the man that he’d become.

The man that Julia had left him.

Would they hate her for what she had done? Would they look at her with pity, or disappointment? Julia didn’t know if those were things that she could handle, but she also knew that she couldn’t let herself fall into the trap of worrying so much about her actions that she continued to build a web of lies around herself. By omission or not, they were still lies, and they had all seen just how much good that did anyone.

So, she weighs her next words the way she used to with metals, and takes a breath.

“I’ll explain on the way to the coast,” she says, “but I cannot let you go alone to end this.”

Taako and Merle exchange a look, and the taller shrugs.

“Works for me,” he says, extending a hand to help the dwelf to her feet. She takes it, flesh to flesh, and stands. The air around her feels like a storm is on the horizon, metaphorically. Like change is the threat of lightning crackling in the air. Given the choice to seek shelter or run toward it, Jules knows she can’t choose the former.

  


The beauty of it is that it won’t take much conversation with Magnus. They can’t tell him. No matter how they try, he won’t remember, so there isn’t much point trying to explain.

He didn’t want to remember. Julia wished that she could forget.

He’s carefully labeling his newest dye lot when they find him in the Sanctum, and the sight of him illuminated in the light cast by the stained glass panes is like a Goliath fist to the sternum. Cast in geometric splashes of gold and green, his loose curls tousled from the absent way he runs his hands through his hair while working, Magnus strikes Julia like lightning, and then he looks up and meets her gaze. The look of love in his dark eyes mirrors the way that he’d looked at her in Wonderland so _painfully_ that she swears that her heart is going to burst from her chest.

_Tell him ‘this is for Julia’, and end him. Then and there,_ he had said with a look that screamed _I love you_ in every language he knew. A look that said _I’m doing this for us._

“What’s up?” Magnus asks her, goofy grin exposing the slight gap between his front teeth. It reminds her of Angus, who looks more and more like him every day, and her heart feels too full.

“I found someone,” she says. “An old friend from the Roost. Merle and Taako are gonna come with me, I just wanted to tell you so that you didn’t worry.” None of it is a lie, not really, because Kalen _had_ been her friend once. It wasn’t the first time that one of them had gone off with Merle and Taako, either, so that wasn’t strange, wasn’t cause for concern.

That doesn’t stop his face from twisting up in concern, and he moves to set his things down until Julia’s metal hand comes down on the back of his left. The arcane metal makes a delightful, delicate sound against his ring.

“Don’t. I know what you’re going to say,” she tells him, and silently begs any deity listening to her pleas that he doesn’t push the issue. She adds, “June hasn’t seen you in ages, you should stay. It’ll be a week, tops. My stone is one call away.”

Mercy of mercies, it works, and he settles back in the chair, wood creaking under the weight of him.

“Okay. But June will be real bummed that you’re leaving,” He tells her. “I think she’s worried about you.”

That smarts a little bit, but June… oh, _June_. She didn’t come away from her time with the Chalice, with the _Light_ , without remaining a little touched. She wasn’t sure how much anyone else noticed, but it was just too coincidental to be anything but. “We’ll ride down to the Davy Lamp before we go,” she replies with a small smile, a smile that widens as he bridges the gap between them, leaning up to kiss her.

“I love you, Jules,” he tells her, a soft, sweet declaration as his forehead presses to hers.

Her eyes drift closed at the weight of the feelings he inspires in her. “I love _you_ , Magnus,” she breathes, adding softer, “I love you, too.”

_I’m doing this for us,_ she thinks as, reluctantly, she pulls away from him. Her strides feel hurried as she returns to Merle and Taako.

“Let’s get going,” she says softly.

“Right behind ya, sister,” the cleric replies, shifting in place to let her lead the way.

 

Though she thought that they would have to go find June, she really should have known better. It was like the girl had a sixth sense for these things. The sight of her in the path makes Julia stop in her tracks outside the heavy, ornate door of the Temple of Istus, stumbling forward slightly as Merle collides with her back, and again when Taako collides with him. June perks up at the sight of her, but then takes stock of her companions and visibly deflates.

Julia isn’t sure who moves first, but there are no words exchanged as June folds into her chest and Julia buries her face into the girl’s hair. Before too much longer, June will be too tall for her to do this, will have to rest her chin atop the dwelf’s head the way Magnus or Lucretia might. She smells like a sweet blossom that does not bloom on Toril, that should not exist here, and it reminds the older woman of how queer a creature the young girl has become since they freed her.

“You just do what you gotta to heal, you hear me?” June says as she pulls away, toffee colored eyes boring into her and pouring their strange warmth into her wounds. She looks up and Julia, and all Julia can think about is how much she’s going to miss this one day.

“Take care of him for me. I’ll be home soon,” she promises.

June’s eyes narrow slightly, a pensive look that reminds her of the Chalice, and she shakes her head. “No, you’ll be home when you’re _supposed_ to be. Don’t you dare try to hurry.” She gives Julia’s shoulders one last tender squeeze, then is off, calling a cheery well wish for their journey over her shoulder.

Jules turns and watches until the temple door closes behind her, letting out a breath at the finality of the closing door.

“That was weird,” Taako mutters from behind her.

“Divine,” Merle counters, and Julia smiles at the sight of him grinning at Taako’s resulting glare.

Without turning his pointed stare away from Merle’s cheshire grin, the elf addresses Julia. “I’m sure you’ll enlighten us at some point, but if you want to get this done, we should head on.”

Merle acts as though he can’t possibly understand what he’s done to annoy Taako and reaches to give Julia’s hand a squeeze. She relishes in the warmth, squeezing back and laughing as Taako leads the way, huffing in Elvish about _th_ _ese ridiculous dwarves and their sentimentality_  and burning daylight.

 

He will take point, of course, but they both know categorically that there are moments where Taako has to get them started first. She’s grateful that this is one of those times.


End file.
